Cycle Sport – In My Day

The Crank Exposes us to his hard core version of what it takes to be a top notch bicycle club rider.

In My Day…..

In my day we went training not “for a ride.”
In my day eating was cheating.
In my day water was something that made your bike heavy.
In my day you trained with bricks in pannier bags if you wanted to climb well.
In my day you bought the smallest pair of shoes that you could fit your feet into and rode them wet for two weeks to stretch them.
Chamios were hard jagged torture points.
In my day you could not text your friend to miss a ride. If you missed three sessions no one asked you again.
In my day you NEVER told the truth about your training. If you were fit, you told people you were “in a hole”. If you weren’t you said you were flying to intimidate others into not attacking you.
In my day it was acceptable to wear you cycling gear under your work clothes all day so you could train straight after work.
In my day it was also acceptable to sleep in your cycling gear so you get out on the bike as soon as you woke up.
In my day you had to HATE people from certain clubs. (Some older officials haven’t let go of this.)
In my day one month a year was spent on 48×18 fixed.
In my day drilling holes in your gear until it broke was a sign of commitment.
In my day you weren’t sprinting hard enough if your front wheel wasn’t flexing to the point of almost potato chipping.
In my day you might spend a whole race, maybe a season, making someone else lose.
In my day you never approved of collusion but always took the money.
In my day locking out your rivals top or bottom gear was “gamesmanship”.
In my day
In my day
In my day
In my day

Comments

My, that was graphic…. While having been guilty of most of the above behaviour at some time or other, I have (so Far) always kept my stomach contents where they belonged during and after racing & training. I have on occasions completed a race & discovered on dismounting from my bike that my legs were unable to support me, requiring an unscheduled lay down.

I think that The Crank must have just completed a training ride on the pedestrian bridge beside the Walter Taylor bridge last Monday by the looks of the graphic!
Good to see he is still out there,on the Brisbane River Loop, teaching the kids on their carbon missiles a thing or two!

Although I can relate to all of those things & have been there & done that, we now have a change of “The Guard” so as to speak.

As far as leaving the contents of one’s stomach just after the finish line, well who hasn’t, it would seem a “Par For the Course” even if you knew you had the wood on the others, one just had to go for it or The Spectators would say You Didn’t Try.

My other comment about “The New Guard” in cycling is that when I started to ride the bike, (that was a long time ago) there was a certain affinity between cyclist, whether it was between other clubs riders or just others on bikes.

We all used to acknowledge each other and it wasn’t unusual stop for a chinwag, even during a training session/ride. Today one is ignored completely and even looked upon almost as “The Enemy” which to my way of thinking is counter productive to our sport (we’re all in the same boat).

Just recently I was passed (I’m quite used to that as I usually travel “At My Speed”) by a guy on a flash looking Carbon Trek, with the mandatory Lycra Outfit & New Shoes. He whistled past without as much as a grunt, the sound of his tyres said he was riding singles.

About five minutes later along the road, there was He standing on the side of the road looking a bit forlorn, with a flat back tyre. I slowed down even more than normal and asked if he had a spare, the answer was negative and he was almost reluctant to even acknowledge that I was there in front of him.

Another question was, do you have someone to call, again negative, then silence…so I just clipped in a rode off into the distance.

I felt bad that evening knowing that I didn’t offer my mobile or anything else, but by the same token he wasn’t exactly forthcoming either, to excuse myself I thought he was a nong.

I’m sure another Good Samaritan would have stopped and offered assistance or he may have had a long walk back to base where ever that was.

I would like to think cyclists need to get back to the day when we shared everything, the time of day regardless, even food or spares, as was the good old days. Unfortunately as we, Of The Old School, fall off the twig that affinity with comrades in arms/on bikes will be lost forever….?